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Written by Prose in portal Prose

Prose Challenge of the Week #58

Good Afternoon, Prosers,

We hope this challenge announcement finds you well and writing!

It’s week fifty-eight of the Prose Challenge of the Week.

For the last week, you guys have been rewriting the creation story, and you all gave exactly what we wanted. Before we check out who is the deserving winner and the recipient of $100, let’s take a look at this week’s prompt:

Challenge of the Week #58: You are a victim of injustice, write a story about it. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $150. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit

Yes! This one is for a longer duration and for more $, so get yourself writing, now!

Now, back to the winner of week fifty-seven.

We have read all of your entries, and have come to a decision. The winner of the “creation story” challenge is @madbeyond with their piece, Out of the Blue

Congratulations! You have just won $100. We’ll be in touch with you shortly.

In the meantime, you have one week to get your write on!

Until next time, Prosers,

Prose.

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Written by Prose in portal Prose
Prose Challenge of the Week #58
Good Afternoon, Prosers,

We hope this challenge announcement finds you well and writing!

It’s week fifty-eight of the Prose Challenge of the Week.

For the last week, you guys have been rewriting the creation story, and you all gave exactly what we wanted. Before we check out who is the deserving winner and the recipient of $100, let’s take a look at this week’s prompt:

Challenge of the Week #58: You are a victim of injustice, write a story about it. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $150. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit

Yes! This one is for a longer duration and for more $, so get yourself writing, now!

Now, back to the winner of week fifty-seven.

We have read all of your entries, and have come to a decision. The winner of the “creation story” challenge is @madbeyond with their piece, Out of the Blue

Congratulations! You have just won $100. We’ll be in touch with you shortly.

In the meantime, you have one week to get your write on!

Until next time, Prosers,

Prose.
#prosechallenge  #CotW  #Itslit  #getlit 
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Challenge of the Week #57: you’re god; rewrite the creation story. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by JamesMByers

Propagation

The Origin

1- 1 When it began, the Goddess sang-

Existence made its way.

Explosions carved the universe

As She unfolded clay.

2 The earth held nothing in its form

Aside from empty dark.

The Goddess crafted sod and sea;

Her spirit made its mark.

3 The angels She created next-

Of wing and feral might.

Emblazoned with a fiery core,

An army willed to fight.

4 And then She said, “Come forth, the light!”

She saw that this was good.

Amazed, the ushered breath and beast;

She crafted earth and wood.

5 A separation of the void,

She called them night and day.

A sphere of fire to keep the morn,

A moon where dark would stay.

6 Upon the realm of Midgard’s turf

In waters rushing flow,

The Goddess spoke and ushered fish

Beneath the undertow.

7 Upon the lands, the angels flew

Ensuring life evolved.

The smallest to the greatest spread,

A manifest resolved.

8 The Goddess called her angels back,

Decreeing, “Be it so-

That all I make shall reproduce-

Increasing ebb and flow.”

9 And Midgard teemed with floral growth;

The fauna filled the land.

The angels blessed the beast and bird

As was their first command.

10 Although the world begotten brimmed

In life of every thing,

The Goddess felt an emptiness

Compelling her to sing.

11 A garden formed of lush delight

Encapsulating all

Invoked as She unleashed a song

And wrought mankind in thrall.

12 The major chords she ushered forth

Ensnared the dirt and mud,

And in her image came the first-

A human, flesh and blood.

Lilith and Adam

2- 1 And so it was, creation bloomed-

The Goddess placed her spark

Embedding every living thing

Between the light and dark.

2 Around the garden walked abroad

A woman of the earth.

The Goddess smiled at what she saw,

Creating in her mirth.

3 She called her Lilith, wrath of storm,

The Goddess lullaby.

She raised her up above the beasts;

The angels in the sky.

4 And though all pleasures she partook,

A sorrow swallowed whole.

The Goddess made the woman sleep

To form another soul.

5 The moment She began her song,

A rib from Lilith spurned

Another- man- as Adam came-

And passion in him burned.

6 Now, Lilith did not like the man-

He tried to rule her form.

But she refused his thirsty lust;

No, she would not conform.

The Descent

3- 1 Rejected, he walked through the wood

Until he heard a voice-

“Dear Adam, you have much to learn-

My son, you have a choice.”

2 The dragon, once called Lucifer,

Had fallen from a star.

Enticing Adam with his lies,

He whispered, “There you are!”

3 As Adam stood before the beast,

A newfound feeling swelled.

“What can I do to make her mine?

To make her heart compelled?”

4 “Oh, Adam, you have every right-

Absolve your flesh in her.”

The great deceiver coaxed his prey

And Adam would concur.

5 Unknown to either of the two,

The Goddess crafted more-

She called them dwarves and others elves,

The myths of ancient lore.

6 As it would be, a dwarf about

The garden heard the plan.

He raced to Lilith, full of fear,

And thus betrayed the man.

7 The garden, Eden it was called,

Invited Adam home.

And Lilith waited, open arms;

Beside her stood a gnome.

8 “So, Mother has created more-

And here you wait for me.

I have a tale to share with you-

An act to set you free."

9 Upon these words, the dwarf appeared

And angels flew below

Arresting Adam ere he stood,

For what, he did not know.

10 “What meaning do you have for this!

I am of Goddess craft!”

Ignoring him, they tied him up

And placed him on a raft.

11 As Lilith watched him float away,

She noticed in his grasp

A piece of fruit from off a tree

Secured within a clasp.

12 The crafty dragon then appeared

And freed the man to dine.

“The Tree of Good and Evil- yes!

Behold- it is now mine!”

13 Of all they were allowed to eat,

The fruit from off one tree

The Goddess had forbidden them-

It birthed eternity.

14 As Adam fled atop the beast,

An an angel came to guard

The entrance into Eden’s realm-

A blazing, shining shard.

15 The dwarves and elves rejoiced to see

The man depart their land.

As Lilith utilized her skills,

The Goddess found it grand.

16 A blessing over Eden’s girth,

Reviving all inside

And laugher flourished plant to plane-

A gift she would provide.

Fallen Angels and Adam’s Daughters

4- 1 Outside of Eden, Adam’s lust

Increased as he would find

A race of creatures, humanoid,

In which his loins would grind.

2 The offspring grew in wonderment

And angels fell from grace

The same as Lucifer had been,

Succumbing in that place.

3 As Adam had him many wives,

So, too, the angels took

To bed his daughters, full of sin,

Depicted in this book.

4 Abominations they produced,

The giants and monsters spawned

Devoured the outer world around

As evil newly dawned.

5 And still they could not enter in

The gates of Eden’s port.

The Goddess kept her promises

And Lilith ruled her court.

6 The angels, each a different brand-

A lion, and eagle, and

A bull defended Lilith’s woods-

And kept filth from her land.

7 For Adam daily tried his best

To take back all denied.

And yet the Goddess blocked attempts

No matter how he tried.

8 The dwarves and elves and other kind

Among the woodland’s hold

Arose to worship Lilith’s Queen

And forged the Goddess gold.

9 Too closely to the outside world

A few dwarves ventured near.

The monsters sensed the wealth and vowed

To offer hateful fear.

10 Again, day out and in, they tried

But Eden’s troupe prevailed.

It seemed a futile quest, indeed

For every time, they failed.

11 The dragon formed a vengeful plan,

And Adam fell in line.

No matter how they changed the course,

The Goddess proved divine.

12 And I would know, for She is me-

We are one in the same.

The garden holds a hidden myth,

And Lilith is her name …

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Challenge of the Week #57: you’re god; rewrite the creation story. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by JamesMByers
Propagation
The Origin

1- 1 When it began, the Goddess sang-
Existence made its way.
Explosions carved the universe
As She unfolded clay.
2 The earth held nothing in its form
Aside from empty dark.
The Goddess crafted sod and sea;
Her spirit made its mark.
3 The angels She created next-
Of wing and feral might.
Emblazoned with a fiery core,
An army willed to fight.
4 And then She said, “Come forth, the light!”
She saw that this was good.
Amazed, the ushered breath and beast;
She crafted earth and wood.
5 A separation of the void,
She called them night and day.
A sphere of fire to keep the morn,
A moon where dark would stay.
6 Upon the realm of Midgard’s turf
In waters rushing flow,
The Goddess spoke and ushered fish
Beneath the undertow.
7 Upon the lands, the angels flew
Ensuring life evolved.
The smallest to the greatest spread,
A manifest resolved.
8 The Goddess called her angels back,
Decreeing, “Be it so-
That all I make shall reproduce-
Increasing ebb and flow.”
9 And Midgard teemed with floral growth;
The fauna filled the land.
The angels blessed the beast and bird
As was their first command.
10 Although the world begotten brimmed
In life of every thing,
The Goddess felt an emptiness
Compelling her to sing.
11 A garden formed of lush delight
Encapsulating all
Invoked as She unleashed a song
And wrought mankind in thrall.
12 The major chords she ushered forth
Ensnared the dirt and mud,
And in her image came the first-
A human, flesh and blood.

Lilith and Adam

2- 1 And so it was, creation bloomed-
The Goddess placed her spark
Embedding every living thing
Between the light and dark.
2 Around the garden walked abroad
A woman of the earth.
The Goddess smiled at what she saw,
Creating in her mirth.
3 She called her Lilith, wrath of storm,
The Goddess lullaby.
She raised her up above the beasts;
The angels in the sky.
4 And though all pleasures she partook,
A sorrow swallowed whole.
The Goddess made the woman sleep
To form another soul.
5 The moment She began her song,
A rib from Lilith spurned
Another- man- as Adam came-
And passion in him burned.
6 Now, Lilith did not like the man-
He tried to rule her form.
But she refused his thirsty lust;
No, she would not conform.

The Descent

3- 1 Rejected, he walked through the wood
Until he heard a voice-
“Dear Adam, you have much to learn-
My son, you have a choice.”
2 The dragon, once called Lucifer,
Had fallen from a star.
Enticing Adam with his lies,
He whispered, “There you are!”
3 As Adam stood before the beast,
A newfound feeling swelled.
“What can I do to make her mine?
To make her heart compelled?”
4 “Oh, Adam, you have every right-
Absolve your flesh in her.”
The great deceiver coaxed his prey
And Adam would concur.
5 Unknown to either of the two,
The Goddess crafted more-
She called them dwarves and others elves,
The myths of ancient lore.
6 As it would be, a dwarf about
The garden heard the plan.
He raced to Lilith, full of fear,
And thus betrayed the man.
7 The garden, Eden it was called,
Invited Adam home.
And Lilith waited, open arms;
Beside her stood a gnome.
8 “So, Mother has created more-
And here you wait for me.
I have a tale to share with you-
An act to set you free."
9 Upon these words, the dwarf appeared
And angels flew below
Arresting Adam ere he stood,
For what, he did not know.
10 “What meaning do you have for this!
I am of Goddess craft!”
Ignoring him, they tied him up
And placed him on a raft.
11 As Lilith watched him float away,
She noticed in his grasp
A piece of fruit from off a tree
Secured within a clasp.
12 The crafty dragon then appeared
And freed the man to dine.
“The Tree of Good and Evil- yes!
Behold- it is now mine!”
13 Of all they were allowed to eat,
The fruit from off one tree
The Goddess had forbidden them-
It birthed eternity.
14 As Adam fled atop the beast,
An an angel came to guard
The entrance into Eden’s realm-
A blazing, shining shard.
15 The dwarves and elves rejoiced to see
The man depart their land.
As Lilith utilized her skills,
The Goddess found it grand.
16 A blessing over Eden’s girth,
Reviving all inside
And laugher flourished plant to plane-
A gift she would provide.

Fallen Angels and Adam’s Daughters

4- 1 Outside of Eden, Adam’s lust
Increased as he would find
A race of creatures, humanoid,
In which his loins would grind.
2 The offspring grew in wonderment
And angels fell from grace
The same as Lucifer had been,
Succumbing in that place.
3 As Adam had him many wives,
So, too, the angels took
To bed his daughters, full of sin,
Depicted in this book.
4 Abominations they produced,
The giants and monsters spawned
Devoured the outer world around
As evil newly dawned.
5 And still they could not enter in
The gates of Eden’s port.
The Goddess kept her promises
And Lilith ruled her court.
6 The angels, each a different brand-
A lion, and eagle, and
A bull defended Lilith’s woods-
And kept filth from her land.
7 For Adam daily tried his best
To take back all denied.
And yet the Goddess blocked attempts
No matter how he tried.
8 The dwarves and elves and other kind
Among the woodland’s hold
Arose to worship Lilith’s Queen
And forged the Goddess gold.
9 Too closely to the outside world
A few dwarves ventured near.
The monsters sensed the wealth and vowed
To offer hateful fear.
10 Again, day out and in, they tried
But Eden’s troupe prevailed.
It seemed a futile quest, indeed
For every time, they failed.
11 The dragon formed a vengeful plan,
And Adam fell in line.
No matter how they changed the course,
The Goddess proved divine.
12 And I would know, for She is me-
We are one in the same.
The garden holds a hidden myth,
And Lilith is her name …
#fantasy  #poetry  #prosechallenge  #Itslit  #getlit 
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Challenge of the Week #58: You are a victim of injustice, write a story about it. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $150. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by Shells

Injustice

..It would have been a day.  Just a day like any other day had it not been for love.  I guess it's always that right?  "Twas beauty killed the beast" "I'm going to pull time a part for you. " the pains of love can drive a body mad.  The loss of true love? Now that's maddening.  But damn her blood was on his hands.  

So I get it.  I can see it.  How everything went down hill that day. It was bound to be a slippery slope from there. 

  I was lucky that day. I'd gone home to bury Pa'. We had him laid to rest beside Grandpa up at North Smallville Memorial Gardens.  Tiny service.  Just the family and the regular hearse chasing, older crowd. Hovering about like they're waiting for death to snatch them up.  

 We could see it from there.  Just a mushroom cloud of smoke. Dark black against the horizon.  Of course, we didn't know then.  But we were watching Metropolis fall and the rise of new Man of Steel. 

  

 

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Challenge of the Week #58: You are a victim of injustice, write a story about it. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $150. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by Shells
Injustice
..It would have been a day.  Just a day like any other day had it not been for love.  I guess it's always that right?  "Twas beauty killed the beast" "I'm going to pull time a part for you. " the pains of love can drive a body mad.  The loss of true love? Now that's maddening.  But damn her blood was on his hands.  
So I get it.  I can see it.  How everything went down hill that day. It was bound to be a slippery slope from there. 
  I was lucky that day. I'd gone home to bury Pa'. We had him laid to rest beside Grandpa up at North Smallville Memorial Gardens.  Tiny service.  Just the family and the regular hearse chasing, older crowd. Hovering about like they're waiting for death to snatch them up.  
 We could see it from there.  Just a mushroom cloud of smoke. Dark black against the horizon.  Of course, we didn't know then.  But we were watching Metropolis fall and the rise of new Man of Steel. 
  
 
#fantasy  #romance  #DC  #shitwrite  #getlit 
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Challenge of the Week #58: You are a victim of injustice, write a story about it. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $150. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by apromptaday

Lucky

I am lucky. 

I am lucky I am lucky,

Privileged with a life far better than most –

we love you, you ungrateful shit

So really, I can’t complain.

I have a roof over my head,

I have a wardrobe full of expensive clothes.

I have a good resume:

two internships, Dean’s List three years in a row –

Don’t you fucking dare throw your opportunities away

and working experience dealing with children.

I am lucky, I’m in good physical health,

My heart is steady beating,

I rarely get sick,

I can run a mile without breaking a sweat –

I get practice, you see

Running from the drunk monster

I used to call dad –

Just broke six minutes on the track:

Coach thinks I could make it to states.

I have a scholarship lined up,

A school hours and hours away,

I have a black eye today,

I have a new bottle of foundation

sitting on my dresser like an apology,

I have food on my plate

even if I don’t get much of it –

No one likes a fat slob, 

You sure you wanna eat all that  –

And if the celery tastes bitter,

I can hold my tongue.

I have a good life

I have a set curfew,

Just like everyone my age

But I don’t think –

Can’t listen to shit,

Ungratefulfuckinglittlebrat; 

I’ll teach you a lesson,

STOP FUCKING SCREAMING –

Their parents are quite as strict.

When I wake up at a hospital

I have flowers on the window,

Nurses whispering in concern;

Apparently, I was mugged.

They ask me if I’m ok. I’m –

Tired. Scared. Startingtogiveup

Just fine, I say.

I am lucky, after all.

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Challenge of the Week #58: You are a victim of injustice, write a story about it. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $150. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by apromptaday
Lucky
I am lucky. 
I am lucky I am lucky,
Privileged with a life far better than most –
we love you, you ungrateful shit
So really, I can’t complain.

I have a roof over my head,
I have a wardrobe full of expensive clothes.
I have a good resume:
two internships, Dean’s List three years in a row –
Don’t you fucking dare throw your opportunities away
and working experience dealing with children.

I am lucky, I’m in good physical health,
My heart is steady beating,
I rarely get sick,
I can run a mile without breaking a sweat –
I get practice, you see
Running from the drunk monster
I used to call dad –
Just broke six minutes on the track:
Coach thinks I could make it to states.

I have a scholarship lined up,
A school hours and hours away,
I have a black eye today,
I have a new bottle of foundation
sitting on my dresser like an apology,
I have food on my plate
even if I don’t get much of it –
No one likes a fat slob, 
You sure you wanna eat all that  –
And if the celery tastes bitter,
I can hold my tongue.

I have a good life
I have a set curfew,
Just like everyone my age
But I don’t think –
Can’t listen to shit,
Ungratefulfuckinglittlebrat; 
I’ll teach you a lesson,
STOP FUCKING SCREAMING –
Their parents are quite as strict.

When I wake up at a hospital
I have flowers on the window,
Nurses whispering in concern;
Apparently, I was mugged.
They ask me if I’m ok. I’m –
Tired. Scared. Startingtogiveup
Just fine, I say.
I am lucky, after all.
#poetry  #prosechallenge  #culture  #Itslit  #getlit 
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Challenge of the Week #58: You are a victim of injustice, write a story about it. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $150. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by MsHannahTweets

Freckles

Jill always considered herself to be a victim of genetics. No matter how much she worked out and ate healthy foods, nothing would change the pear shape of her body. Without the help of heels, it was impossible for her to stand taller than 5'3. Worst of all, she thought, was how freckled the sun made her skin. While her friends turned golden brown in the summer, she became spotted. The unchangeability of genes was endlessly frustrating. Jill had done nothing to deserve this injustice. 

For several weeks, she sheltered a crush on a new guy named Charlie in her friend group. He seemed somewhat interested, but she couldn't quite tell. Dread boiled inside her body when all of her friends decided to spend a day at the beach. Swimsuits were her least favorite thing to wear. But, knowing her crust would be there, she went anyway. Without her heels, Charlie could see her true height. He was startled, but seemed almost pleased.

Letting her guard down, Jill jumped into the water and enjoyed a day of swimming. She forgot that the salty water would eliminate her makeup and make her freckles shine brightly. But she was very lucky it did. As it turns out, Charlie liked shorter girls and LOVED freckles. 

No, it wasn't fair that Jill was covered it freckles. It gave her an advantage. Little did she know, another girl was nearby watching her. This person also hated genetics. No matter what she did, her skin didn't freckle. 

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Challenge of the Week #58: You are a victim of injustice, write a story about it. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $150. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by MsHannahTweets
Freckles
Jill always considered herself to be a victim of genetics. No matter how much she worked out and ate healthy foods, nothing would change the pear shape of her body. Without the help of heels, it was impossible for her to stand taller than 5'3. Worst of all, she thought, was how freckled the sun made her skin. While her friends turned golden brown in the summer, she became spotted. The unchangeability of genes was endlessly frustrating. Jill had done nothing to deserve this injustice. 

For several weeks, she sheltered a crush on a new guy named Charlie in her friend group. He seemed somewhat interested, but she couldn't quite tell. Dread boiled inside her body when all of her friends decided to spend a day at the beach. Swimsuits were her least favorite thing to wear. But, knowing her crust would be there, she went anyway. Without her heels, Charlie could see her true height. He was startled, but seemed almost pleased.

Letting her guard down, Jill jumped into the water and enjoyed a day of swimming. She forgot that the salty water would eliminate her makeup and make her freckles shine brightly. But she was very lucky it did. As it turns out, Charlie liked shorter girls and LOVED freckles. 

No, it wasn't fair that Jill was covered it freckles. It gave her an advantage. Little did she know, another girl was nearby watching her. This person also hated genetics. No matter what she did, her skin didn't freckle. 
#prosechallenge  #Itslit  #getlit 
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Written by Sammielee46 in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Big Girls Cry

Tears fall.

Orbs of despair drip.

Following the contour of her cheek.

Echoing the bleakness

she holds in her

sorrowful heart.

Pirouettes puddle

as black smears

around her puffed eyes.

She cried as a child

when she couldn't get her own way;

now she cries

for everything she's lost

the innocence that was taken

the freedom that was abused

the choices she wasn't given.

Streaks of pain kiss her skin

- skin that's scarred with the weight

of memories that keep her awake

at night,

tearing her apart from the

inside out.

Nightmares that haunt her

echo in her screams

- the kind that leave the throat

without making a sound,

when the terror steals

the horror from your voice

by placing its fear

over quivering lips,

smearing her lipstick;

her war paint,

her mask,

washed away

by things that can never

be forgotten.

When she was young,

she was told that

big girls don't cry.

But after yesteryear's

this big girl is still

a child inside

- crying into the ether,

wishing that one day

she could feel the

purity

that has all but been

forgotten...

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Written by Sammielee46 in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Big Girls Cry
Tears fall.
Orbs of despair drip.
Following the contour of her cheek.
Echoing the bleakness
she holds in her
sorrowful heart.
Pirouettes puddle
as black smears
around her puffed eyes.
She cried as a child
when she couldn't get her own way;
now she cries
for everything she's lost
the innocence that was taken
the freedom that was abused
the choices she wasn't given.
Streaks of pain kiss her skin
- skin that's scarred with the weight
of memories that keep her awake
at night,
tearing her apart from the
inside out.
Nightmares that haunt her
echo in her screams
- the kind that leave the throat
without making a sound,
when the terror steals
the horror from your voice
by placing its fear
over quivering lips,
smearing her lipstick;
her war paint,
her mask,
washed away
by things that can never
be forgotten.
When she was young,
she was told that
big girls don't cry.
But after yesteryear's
this big girl is still
a child inside
- crying into the ether,
wishing that one day
she could feel the
purity
that has all but been
forgotten...
#poetry  #amwriting  #Itslit  #getlit 
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Challenge of the Week #56: Write the beginning of a story about a tyrannical king who threatens the entire realm. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by JamesMByers

Ego, Porridge, and a Dwarf

     Falling to her knees, Acirema wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth. Many times she had been beaten, and many times she had gotten back up. Servitude seemed her only reality. Desperation settled in, but beneath each heartbeat nestled the sound of hope. King Dlanod laughed. She expected this.

     "My porridge was too cold. How can you expect me to eat it cold?”

Mustering the strength to stand, the young dwarf looked her king in the eyes as she moved to the bowl. In his anger, he had tipped it over. Hurriedly wiping up the mess, she dabbed the blood from her latest slap as she collected the utensils that had fallen around his routine seating arrangement.

     “Perhaps your porridge might taste better if you hadn't banned all the elves from our kingdom, sire? They cooked. We dwarves are miners and smiths, not short order chefs. Don't you remember the feasts you once had?”

     The orange ogre turned and slapped Acirema to the ground again. The wooden bowl flung across the room, skidding along the way. Shaking it off, the dwarf moved one knee at a time until she slowly collected the bowl and spoon she dropped from his attack.

     “You are not my advisor,” he sneered. “I do what must be done for this kingdom in order to provide peace, security and freedom. The elves, gnomes, and fairies got in my way. You're lucky. I loathe your race. But you do as you're told so I keep them around. Look at this nation now. The orcs, ogres, and goblins shall proposer under my intelligence! Everyone else can get in line or be destroyed.”

     Moving to the nearby window, the dwarf servant peered outside. The second sun was rising. Though she could barely make out the faces of those below her, she sensed something in each person making their way about life ... hope. A glimmer resonated through each step taken. And though many of them were headed to work on the great stone wall King Dlanod enforced as a tribute, the unity his reign cemented among the many tribes reassured her all was not lost. 

     Whips cracked. Chains clanked. But the music they produced formed a new beat in her heart; a rhythm in her soul. She called it freedom. Thinking of her former king, Amabo, she knew a leader could be wise and kind. In this moment she thought of her people.

     Looking back at her beastly ruler on her way to the kitchen, Acirema smiled. Things were changing. Perhaps she wouldn't be beaten down forever. Perhaps, if those people felt the same as she did, together they could make a difference. She rounded the corner and entered the chef’s quarter humming the tune of days to come. For now, she had to make the porridge ...

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Challenge of the Week #56: Write the beginning of a story about a tyrannical king who threatens the entire realm. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by JamesMByers
Ego, Porridge, and a Dwarf
     Falling to her knees, Acirema wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth. Many times she had been beaten, and many times she had gotten back up. Servitude seemed her only reality. Desperation settled in, but beneath each heartbeat nestled the sound of hope. King Dlanod laughed. She expected this.

     "My porridge was too cold. How can you expect me to eat it cold?”

Mustering the strength to stand, the young dwarf looked her king in the eyes as she moved to the bowl. In his anger, he had tipped it over. Hurriedly wiping up the mess, she dabbed the blood from her latest slap as she collected the utensils that had fallen around his routine seating arrangement.

     “Perhaps your porridge might taste better if you hadn't banned all the elves from our kingdom, sire? They cooked. We dwarves are miners and smiths, not short order chefs. Don't you remember the feasts you once had?”

     The orange ogre turned and slapped Acirema to the ground again. The wooden bowl flung across the room, skidding along the way. Shaking it off, the dwarf moved one knee at a time until she slowly collected the bowl and spoon she dropped from his attack.

     “You are not my advisor,” he sneered. “I do what must be done for this kingdom in order to provide peace, security and freedom. The elves, gnomes, and fairies got in my way. You're lucky. I loathe your race. But you do as you're told so I keep them around. Look at this nation now. The orcs, ogres, and goblins shall proposer under my intelligence! Everyone else can get in line or be destroyed.”

     Moving to the nearby window, the dwarf servant peered outside. The second sun was rising. Though she could barely make out the faces of those below her, she sensed something in each person making their way about life ... hope. A glimmer resonated through each step taken. And though many of them were headed to work on the great stone wall King Dlanod enforced as a tribute, the unity his reign cemented among the many tribes reassured her all was not lost. 

     Whips cracked. Chains clanked. But the music they produced formed a new beat in her heart; a rhythm in her soul. She called it freedom. Thinking of her former king, Amabo, she knew a leader could be wise and kind. In this moment she thought of her people.

     Looking back at her beastly ruler on her way to the kitchen, Acirema smiled. Things were changing. Perhaps she wouldn't be beaten down forever. Perhaps, if those people felt the same as she did, together they could make a difference. She rounded the corner and entered the chef’s quarter humming the tune of days to come. For now, she had to make the porridge ...
#fantasy  #fiction  #prosechallenge  #Itslit  #getlit 
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Challenge of the Week #57: you’re god; rewrite the creation story. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by Lish

A New Hobby


It was Friday night and I had turned way too much water into wine. Inebriated and bored out of my mind, I had decided it was time for me to pick up a new hobby. My current hobby was becoming too redundant and mundane –walking on water lost its excitement with no one there to witness it.


That's it! I knew right then what my new hobby would be. I could create a group of followers to astonish with my water-walking skills!


Walking to the nearest moistened soil, I was giddy. I couldn't wait to create the first people to become my followers. Scooping up the soil, damp from stagnant water leaching from the nearby cesspool (don't ask, I was high when I created dry land and water, and I hadn't gotten around to fixing that little error yet) I began to mold the foul-smelling muck into a man-shaped form. I'll admit it was a sloppy job, but considering my wine-induced double vision is the reason Adam had two feet to stand on, I think we can look past the sloppiness.


I decided on the name Adam, which most of you already know, but what most don't know is, his last name is Miracle. A-Dam-Miracle. Haha!

Man I was drunk.

Anyways, I realized if I made a woman to pair with Adam, they could procreate my followers for me, and I could begin a new hobby –sword swallowing always intrigued me.


Ripping out a rib from Adam seemed an appropriate way to create his counterpart. I’m not sure why, but I'm pretty sure I was thinking about the barbecue ribs I had for supper the night before.

Eh, either way, Eve never asked me why I chose his rib, so thank fuck for that!

Eve is actually just a nickname I gave her. Her real names Even. Even Steven. Wine brings out a sick sense of humor –don’t judge me.


When I had realized that Adam and Eve were not procreating my followers for me, I attempted to “set the mood” by creating the moon and the stars to pepper the heavens in romantic lighting. But to accomplish this, I had to make the sun go away for part of the day, so the moon and stars could shine brighter. Aha! Dark and light!


The first night that the moon and stars came out, procreation began and it wasn't long before I had myself quite the audience. Everyone bowed to my water-walking skills, and I couldn't be happier than when I'd hear the “oohs” and “ahhs” of the crowd.


Before long, I became bored again, and quite frankly, Adam was getting on my nerves. Eve too. Adam couldn't stop begging to eat the stupid fruit I marked as inedible (Should've stuck to wine that night, whiskey makes me a bit of a control freak) and Eve apparently wanted to procreate with me, which I wanted no part of. I mean, wasn't that the purpose of creating them both? So I wouldn't have to put in the work?


Fretting over the current frustrations of my creations, I decided I would create something to eliminate them from the beautiful Earth I had made.

I'd need to lubricate my thinking wheels with some rum and Coke before stumbling upon a solution.

Yes! That's it! Flying animals to swoop down and carry these ignorant assholes away! So I took a long, hard swig of rum, straight from the bottle, and spat it into the air. Before my very eyes, an eagle had formed; such a big, strong looking creature. I instructed it to find the people, grip them with its talons, and carry them off as far away from me as possible.


The eagle flew the opposite direction, so I continued spitting rum in the air, making an entire fleet of all different species of winged animals. None of them heeded my instructions.

Pissed off and hungover the following morning, I was burning with the need for revenge. The winged creatures failed me terribly. I had to eradicate them, too.


I know! I'll make land animals, big ass wild cats, alligators, grizzly bears; oh the plethora of predators I had planned!


I had made two of everything and just finished the last pair of elephants, when one of the grizzly bears released a ferocious attack on me, nearly mauling me to death. Frankly, I'll admit it ok, that bear kicked my ass! I needed a vacation, but what I ended up with was one day of rest.


One. Fucking. Day?


Eh, it's all good I suppose. I created the food chain to get even with every species of the animal kingdom; my Friday night hobby is tuning into shows like “When Nature Attacks” and “Predators of the Wild” –unless it involves bears.


I don't need to get even with the people, they do enough damage to each other without me lifting a finger.

Hahaha! Ignorant shitheads.

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Challenge of the Week #57: you’re god; rewrite the creation story. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by Lish
A New Hobby

It was Friday night and I had turned way too much water into wine. Inebriated and bored out of my mind, I had decided it was time for me to pick up a new hobby. My current hobby was becoming too redundant and mundane –walking on water lost its excitement with no one there to witness it.

That's it! I knew right then what my new hobby would be. I could create a group of followers to astonish with my water-walking skills!

Walking to the nearest moistened soil, I was giddy. I couldn't wait to create the first people to become my followers. Scooping up the soil, damp from stagnant water leaching from the nearby cesspool (don't ask, I was high when I created dry land and water, and I hadn't gotten around to fixing that little error yet) I began to mold the foul-smelling muck into a man-shaped form. I'll admit it was a sloppy job, but considering my wine-induced double vision is the reason Adam had two feet to stand on, I think we can look past the sloppiness.

I decided on the name Adam, which most of you already know, but what most don't know is, his last name is Miracle. A-Dam-Miracle. Haha!

Man I was drunk.

Anyways, I realized if I made a woman to pair with Adam, they could procreate my followers for me, and I could begin a new hobby –sword swallowing always intrigued me.

Ripping out a rib from Adam seemed an appropriate way to create his counterpart. I’m not sure why, but I'm pretty sure I was thinking about the barbecue ribs I had for supper the night before.

Eh, either way, Eve never asked me why I chose his rib, so thank fuck for that!

Eve is actually just a nickname I gave her. Her real names Even. Even Steven. Wine brings out a sick sense of humor –don’t judge me.

When I had realized that Adam and Eve were not procreating my followers for me, I attempted to “set the mood” by creating the moon and the stars to pepper the heavens in romantic lighting. But to accomplish this, I had to make the sun go away for part of the day, so the moon and stars could shine brighter. Aha! Dark and light!

The first night that the moon and stars came out, procreation began and it wasn't long before I had myself quite the audience. Everyone bowed to my water-walking skills, and I couldn't be happier than when I'd hear the “oohs” and “ahhs” of the crowd.

Before long, I became bored again, and quite frankly, Adam was getting on my nerves. Eve too. Adam couldn't stop begging to eat the stupid fruit I marked as inedible (Should've stuck to wine that night, whiskey makes me a bit of a control freak) and Eve apparently wanted to procreate with me, which I wanted no part of. I mean, wasn't that the purpose of creating them both? So I wouldn't have to put in the work?

Fretting over the current frustrations of my creations, I decided I would create something to eliminate them from the beautiful Earth I had made.

I'd need to lubricate my thinking wheels with some rum and Coke before stumbling upon a solution.

Yes! That's it! Flying animals to swoop down and carry these ignorant assholes away! So I took a long, hard swig of rum, straight from the bottle, and spat it into the air. Before my very eyes, an eagle had formed; such a big, strong looking creature. I instructed it to find the people, grip them with its talons, and carry them off as far away from me as possible.

The eagle flew the opposite direction, so I continued spitting rum in the air, making an entire fleet of all different species of winged animals. None of them heeded my instructions.

Pissed off and hungover the following morning, I was burning with the need for revenge. The winged creatures failed me terribly. I had to eradicate them, too.

I know! I'll make land animals, big ass wild cats, alligators, grizzly bears; oh the plethora of predators I had planned!

I had made two of everything and just finished the last pair of elephants, when one of the grizzly bears released a ferocious attack on me, nearly mauling me to death. Frankly, I'll admit it ok, that bear kicked my ass! I needed a vacation, but what I ended up with was one day of rest.

One. Fucking. Day?

Eh, it's all good I suppose. I created the food chain to get even with every species of the animal kingdom; my Friday night hobby is tuning into shows like “When Nature Attacks” and “Predators of the Wild” –unless it involves bears.

I don't need to get even with the people, they do enough damage to each other without me lifting a finger.

Hahaha! Ignorant shitheads.
#prosechallenge  #Itslit  #getlit  #myversion 
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Challenge of the Week #57: you’re god; rewrite the creation story. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by fantastical

The Story of Dot (a revision)

.

Once upon a time there was just Dot. Dot was literally everything there was, save the void Dot existed in. The void, Dot supposed, was everything else. But since everything else was essentially nothing, the void, there really was just Dot. (But, even nothing can sometimes be something.)

Dot just was, if you were there too, no matter how close or far from Dot you would get, Dot always would look the same. A perfection in the art of singularities.

Dot liked to move, or at least believed to like it. It was hard for Dot to tell if it could move since the void had no points of reference. It made Dot a bit sad to consider it.

That sadness lead to wanting a change. Dot wasn't content with just being Dot any longer. Dot wasn't content to just existing in one dimension. So Dot stretched one moment, for what seemed to be forever and became Line.

-

Line, that was once Dot, was a slightly happier thing. But since that was the first stretch of happiness as well, it was a infinitely happier thing. At least for a while. So Line decided one moment to stretch again, but this time bowing out in the middle. Initially, Line turned into Arch, but Arch was curious what happened if it kept going and eventually brought both ends of itself together.

c

Something magical happened when Arch did this, Arch became Circle.

o

Now Circle was very happy. Circle felt a bit as it did when it was it was just Dot, but now just more. After a time though, Circle missed the some of the wonders of being just Line. So Circle tried become Line again, but didn't want to let go of the ends of itself that created Circle in the first place. So it tried to make multiple lines instead. It couldn't just form two connecting lines, but it could form three! When Circle finally did this feat, it became Triangle.

Triangle was ecstatic! That feeling was greater than any happiness it had known before. Once again, it had the nice straightness of Line, but repeated two more times. Even more amazingly, it possessed these new things which it decided to call sides and angles. The tips of each angle was almost like being Dot again, times three!

Triangle was so excited, that it wondered what would happen if it formed more sides and angles.

Triangle became Square. Square became Pentagon. Pentagon became Hexagon. Heptagon...Octagon...Nonagon...Decagon...

It kept adding sides to for an infinite time, until magically, it was Circle once again. Circle was amazed! That it could add so many sides and have so many angles and still become Circle again.

Circle was happy and felt it knew all there was to know. Until it wasn't. Circle wanted not to be alone in the void any longer. In a moment that could only be called sadness, by someone like you and I, Circle twisted. For the briefest of moments, Circle became Lemniscate (If you were to look at the symbol we use for infinity today, that is what Lemniscate looked like.)

Lemniscate, in that briefest of moments asked itself, "What happens if I let go, to become two? Do I die or become something more?"

Lemniscate let go...and became Circle again. But, Circle wasn't alone anymore. Circle had a clone now.

Circle laughed and spun around the other, finally realizing just how fast Circle could move! They were both happy. Until one moment Circle watch the clone become a Lemniscate, only to split and become two new Circles. Now there were three Circles. The two newer ones laughed, both lemniscating again. Split again. Three became five. The one, the original, was 'larger' than the other four, but just sat back and watched the others laugh at their new life. Two of them played the becoming Triangle game. While the other two lemniscated again. Circle was having a hard time keeping track of them all. They were all changing and lemniscating too fast.

Soon, where there was once just Dot (and everything else, that was really nothing else), now there were shapes of all types. Some were perfectly content to be just Triangles or just Octagons. Some Triangles were perfect, in that each side was the same length. Others liked to make one or two sides a bit longer. That went with the other shapes as well. Some Circles added a wave to their single side. Other Circles twisted at two points to become Crescents. Circle never thought about doing that before.

Now Circle watched as some of the Shapes formed partnerships and collectives. Six of the meaner Squares formed a ganged named Cube, for example. It was an amazing time. Yet, it was scary in so many ways.

Soon Circle witnessed the creation of a collective called Letters by a few of the more anarchist shapes.

Soon Circle witnessed some of the other Shapes team up to form Art. Some from the Letter collective left to join the Art collective, creating sub-collectives called Poetry and Stories. Some in the Art collective went back to the Letter collective to show Letters how to be more stylish. The Letter-Artists refer to it as being Typographically gifted.

Circle watched in wonder, but Circle missed its original friend, its original child. So Circle decided to Lemniscate once more. But, the new Circle watched what all of the other Shapes were doing, and went to join them, leaving old Circle alone once again.

Frustrated, Circle would Lemniscate, again, and again, and again. Each time, hoping the new Circle would want to stay and watch with Circle. They never did.

Circle decided to Lemniscate once more. But this time, Circle didn't do it symmetrically, one side of the Lemniscate was infinitely large, the other side infinitely small. When this somewhat odd Lemniscate let go, all that was left was Dot and a new Circle. The new Circle quickly left Dot to go play in the chaos and order of all of the other Shapes and Letters and Art.

Dot watched all it created, realizing it inadvertently became a god doing so. Dot was happy for what it started, yet always a bit sad for being always a bit alone.

One day, Dot was observing an offshoot of Letters and was amazed at what they were doing, suddenly wanting to join in.

You might wonder whatever happened to Dot after that, and let me tell you. Dot is here, right now, looking right at you. Dot goes by a different name today though. That name is called Period. And Period now lives at the end of Dot's story, this story. Here .

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Challenge of the Week #57: you’re god; rewrite the creation story. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by fantastical
The Story of Dot (a revision)
.

Once upon a time there was just Dot. Dot was literally everything there was, save the void Dot existed in. The void, Dot supposed, was everything else. But since everything else was essentially nothing, the void, there really was just Dot. (But, even nothing can sometimes be something.)

Dot just was, if you were there too, no matter how close or far from Dot you would get, Dot always would look the same. A perfection in the art of singularities.

Dot liked to move, or at least believed to like it. It was hard for Dot to tell if it could move since the void had no points of reference. It made Dot a bit sad to consider it.

That sadness lead to wanting a change. Dot wasn't content with just being Dot any longer. Dot wasn't content to just existing in one dimension. So Dot stretched one moment, for what seemed to be forever and became Line.

-

Line, that was once Dot, was a slightly happier thing. But since that was the first stretch of happiness as well, it was a infinitely happier thing. At least for a while. So Line decided one moment to stretch again, but this time bowing out in the middle. Initially, Line turned into Arch, but Arch was curious what happened if it kept going and eventually brought both ends of itself together.

c

Something magical happened when Arch did this, Arch became Circle.

o

Now Circle was very happy. Circle felt a bit as it did when it was it was just Dot, but now just more. After a time though, Circle missed the some of the wonders of being just Line. So Circle tried become Line again, but didn't want to let go of the ends of itself that created Circle in the first place. So it tried to make multiple lines instead. It couldn't just form two connecting lines, but it could form three! When Circle finally did this feat, it became Triangle.

Triangle was ecstatic! That feeling was greater than any happiness it had known before. Once again, it had the nice straightness of Line, but repeated two more times. Even more amazingly, it possessed these new things which it decided to call sides and angles. The tips of each angle was almost like being Dot again, times three!

Triangle was so excited, that it wondered what would happen if it formed more sides and angles.

Triangle became Square. Square became Pentagon. Pentagon became Hexagon. Heptagon...Octagon...Nonagon...Decagon...

It kept adding sides to for an infinite time, until magically, it was Circle once again. Circle was amazed! That it could add so many sides and have so many angles and still become Circle again.

Circle was happy and felt it knew all there was to know. Until it wasn't. Circle wanted not to be alone in the void any longer. In a moment that could only be called sadness, by someone like you and I, Circle twisted. For the briefest of moments, Circle became Lemniscate (If you were to look at the symbol we use for infinity today, that is what Lemniscate looked like.)

Lemniscate, in that briefest of moments asked itself, "What happens if I let go, to become two? Do I die or become something more?"

Lemniscate let go...and became Circle again. But, Circle wasn't alone anymore. Circle had a clone now.

Circle laughed and spun around the other, finally realizing just how fast Circle could move! They were both happy. Until one moment Circle watch the clone become a Lemniscate, only to split and become two new Circles. Now there were three Circles. The two newer ones laughed, both lemniscating again. Split again. Three became five. The one, the original, was 'larger' than the other four, but just sat back and watched the others laugh at their new life. Two of them played the becoming Triangle game. While the other two lemniscated again. Circle was having a hard time keeping track of them all. They were all changing and lemniscating too fast.

Soon, where there was once just Dot (and everything else, that was really nothing else), now there were shapes of all types. Some were perfectly content to be just Triangles or just Octagons. Some Triangles were perfect, in that each side was the same length. Others liked to make one or two sides a bit longer. That went with the other shapes as well. Some Circles added a wave to their single side. Other Circles twisted at two points to become Crescents. Circle never thought about doing that before.

Now Circle watched as some of the Shapes formed partnerships and collectives. Six of the meaner Squares formed a ganged named Cube, for example. It was an amazing time. Yet, it was scary in so many ways.

Soon Circle witnessed the creation of a collective called Letters by a few of the more anarchist shapes.

Soon Circle witnessed some of the other Shapes team up to form Art. Some from the Letter collective left to join the Art collective, creating sub-collectives called Poetry and Stories. Some in the Art collective went back to the Letter collective to show Letters how to be more stylish. The Letter-Artists refer to it as being Typographically gifted.

Circle watched in wonder, but Circle missed its original friend, its original child. So Circle decided to Lemniscate once more. But, the new Circle watched what all of the other Shapes were doing, and went to join them, leaving old Circle alone once again.

Frustrated, Circle would Lemniscate, again, and again, and again. Each time, hoping the new Circle would want to stay and watch with Circle. They never did.

Circle decided to Lemniscate once more. But this time, Circle didn't do it symmetrically, one side of the Lemniscate was infinitely large, the other side infinitely small. When this somewhat odd Lemniscate let go, all that was left was Dot and a new Circle. The new Circle quickly left Dot to go play in the chaos and order of all of the other Shapes and Letters and Art.

Dot watched all it created, realizing it inadvertently became a god doing so. Dot was happy for what it started, yet always a bit sad for being always a bit alone.

One day, Dot was observing an offshoot of Letters and was amazed at what they were doing, suddenly wanting to join in.

You might wonder whatever happened to Dot after that, and let me tell you. Dot is here, right now, looking right at you. Dot goes by a different name today though. That name is called Period. And Period now lives at the end of Dot's story, this story. Here .
#prosechallenge  #fictionOrIsIt  #Itslit  #getlit 
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Challenge of the Week #57: you’re god; rewrite the creation story. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by Snowflake_pixie

The Painter

 I am an old artist. I was living in no place, no time and no light. All I had was a paint pallet and a brush.

 Once, I perceived a white spot in the dark and I walked towards it.

"It's a semi circle" I said.

 I hurried and when I got closer I could see that it was a sphere: one semi sphere of black words and another of uninked papers. It was breathtaking and ostensibly what I was looking for.

 Feeling excited, I took my paint pallet to make all those meaningless words alive by giving them meaning.

"Ocean" was the first. I closed my eyes and imagined an endless blue. I picked a brush and started to shape my imagination on paper.

"Soil" was the next. I painted it in brown.

Then, "Plants"

"Green would be a perfect choice." I thought.

 I felt so tired and I needed to take some rest but that gloomy ceiling needed a light.

So, "Moon" and "Stars" were my next paintings.

I fell asleep over all those names. When I opened my eyes, it was still dark. I got the word on which I lay my head. It was "Sun". I painted it in bright yellow and hung it in the sky to light up the...the..."World".

 My world needed residents. I wanted to try something different , I added all colors together and I masterfully painted the "Man".

 Animals, Air, Years  Seasons...I painted all of them one by one.

 "Done!" I said while putting down my pallet and brush to relieve my shoulder. I took some steps backwards to watch them all from a distance. It was beautiful but all those colors seemed so colorless, there must have been something missing, the most important thing. 

Lost in thought, I saw there was one last word and one last piece of paper.

Holding "Love" close to my chest, I thought about the shape and color of love.

Edited by Gowaart 

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Juice
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Challenge of the Week #57: you’re god; rewrite the creation story. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by Snowflake_pixie
The Painter
 I am an old artist. I was living in no place, no time and no light. All I had was a paint pallet and a brush.

 Once, I perceived a white spot in the dark and I walked towards it.
"It's a semi circle" I said.
 I hurried and when I got closer I could see that it was a sphere: one semi sphere of black words and another of uninked papers. It was breathtaking and ostensibly what I was looking for.

 Feeling excited, I took my paint pallet to make all those meaningless words alive by giving them meaning.
"Ocean" was the first. I closed my eyes and imagined an endless blue. I picked a brush and started to shape my imagination on paper.
"Soil" was the next. I painted it in brown.
Then, "Plants"
"Green would be a perfect choice." I thought.

 I felt so tired and I needed to take some rest but that gloomy ceiling needed a light.
So, "Moon" and "Stars" were my next paintings.
I fell asleep over all those names. When I opened my eyes, it was still dark. I got the word on which I lay my head. It was "Sun". I painted it in bright yellow and hung it in the sky to light up the...the..."World".

 My world needed residents. I wanted to try something different , I added all colors together and I masterfully painted the "Man".
 Animals, Air, Years  Seasons...I painted all of them one by one.

 "Done!" I said while putting down my pallet and brush to relieve my shoulder. I took some steps backwards to watch them all from a distance. It was beautiful but all those colors seemed so colorless, there must have been something missing, the most important thing. 
Lost in thought, I saw there was one last word and one last piece of paper.

Holding "Love" close to my chest, I thought about the shape and color of love.

Edited by Gowaart 
#prosechallenge  #Itslit  #getlit 
19
7
22
Juice
140 reads
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